


Pretty in Pink

by whizzerdbrown



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: All Boys School, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Modern AU, No Jason, Trans! Whizzer, lots of gay stuff, marvin is in a relationship with trina still but she’s a state away, theyre all juniors, whizzer is friends with cordelia and charlotte but they’re not really present much in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whizzerdbrown/pseuds/whizzerdbrown
Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Feynman think that girls are too much of a distraction for their son. Marvin may have a girlfriend, sure, but the boy seems to only being attention to her and other girls – not on his schoolwork. So, Marvin is sent off to a prestigious all boys high school a state away, left to live on campus with some guy he’s never even met.





	1. colorful personalities & bedrooms

“You’re _what?”_ Trina had asked, as the two sat in the front of Marvin’s car. They had just finished a date – the last one that they’d have for awhile – and Marvin was dropping the girl back of at her house. 

“I know, it’s stupid. I hate it too.” Marvin sighed. “I’ll text you everyday, I promise. And it’ll only be for two more years. Not even that long, we’re halfway through junior year now.”

Trina nodded slowly. “Why are they doing this?”

Marvin didn’t want to tell her the truth. _Because they know I’m checking out other girls because you’re just not working for me._ “They don’t think I’m paying enough attention to school.”

“So they’re sending you to another one?”

“I guess so.”

Trina sighed again. “You’ll call me... right? Keep me updated? How things are, what the school is like?”

“Of course.”

And then Trina gave him a kiss and said goodnight. And that was the last time he saw her that year. 

—

Marvin walked down the hallway, feeling a few eyes on him. He ignored them with expertise, looking straight ahead. His dorm wasn’t even on this floor, so he didn’t have a need to look around this area anyway, he just had to get through to get to the stairs that would take him up to the correct floor. 

He made it to his dorm room in record time, quietly entering the room. It was silent, and nobody was in there. He just assumed that whoever his roommate was had better things to do. Marvin did too, like hanging out with his old friends from his old school. Not like they mattered anymore, at this point. He probably wouldn’t see or hear from them anymore, anyway. 

Marvin glanced around the room, then dropped his bag on the unoccupied bed. The other half of the room was extremely decorated. And it was split half way down, quite perfectly, with a string of rainbow colored fairy lights. 

The other bed was made out in cutesy, pastel sheets, with lots of decorative pillows in many colors, including a body pillow covered in rainbows. In fact, that side of the room kind of looked like a pride parade blew up on it. There was a rainbow gay pride flag on the ceiling, right above the perfectly made bed, and a transgender pride flag on the wall right next to it. Somewhere close to the transgender flag was a cork board, which, upon closer inspection, held a bunch of memoirs. Pictures of people, tickets from movies and concerts and plays and musicals and ball games, little pins, and some small notes that Marvin couldn’t read from where he was. The desk on that side of the room was carefully organized, and just as colorful as the rest of this guy’s half of the room. 

And Marvin’s side was plain. He put his own sheets on the bed, but they were just blue and white plaid. He didn’t have any posters to put up, he didn’t have any pictures to put up. He just kind of sprawled his school supplies on his own desk. It wasn’t all that great at all, especially compared to how extravagant the other side was. 

Then, the door swung open. Marvin heard the guy talking hurriedly to someone as he stepped into the room. 

“Yep, yeah, nice talking to you too, Charlie, uh-huh, I _will_ look forward to seeing you in science tomorrow, _bye!”_ And then the door was slammed shut just as quickly as it was opened. 

Marvin watched as the other male turned around, leaning against the door – before perking up upon noticing Marvin. “Hello there!”

“Uh–“

“Marvin, right?” The other greeted. He had perfect posture. Perfect hair, perfect skin, a perfect body, a perfect smile– what the hell? Why was Marvin noticing this?

Marvin cleared his throat. “Yeah. And you are?”

“Whizzer. Whizzer Brown.” The guy – Whizzer? What kind of a name is that? – said, before crossing over the light barrier into his side of the room and dropping into his dark purple desk chair. “Good luck here.”

Marvin himself sat on the corner of his bed. “Is it bad?”

Whizzer smiled, mischievous, as he crossed one knee over the other. “Depends. You queer?”

“What?”

“Are you gay, Marvin?”

_“No.”_

Whizzer shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Clearly,” he motioned to his pride flags, “we’re a supportive place. You’ll have an easier time if you really _are_ straight, though.”

“If they’re supportive, then why would it matter?” Marvin huffed. 

“Oh, no. No, no, that’s not what I meant.

Marvin gave a blank stare. 

“It was more of a royal we. _I’m_ supportive. And some of the school is, too. But you know how high school is.” Whizzer began examining his nails, which Marvin just realized were painted a dark red. “Everyone follows each other’s lead, no matter what they actually believe in. One person hates queers, suddenly everybody in that hallway does. Gets pretty rowdy, sometimes.”

“Do you get bullied?” Marvin questioned, glancing at the flags again. 

Whizzer only shrugged. “Most people like me, so it’s okay. I miss my girl friends though, this only boy shit _sucks ass.”_

Marvin scoffed at that, just deciding to ignore the quick topic change. “Your parents force you here, too?”

“Yeah,” Whizzer switched his position, throwing his legs over one of the arm rests and leaning against the other. “What were you imprisoned for?”

“Spent more time checking out girls rather than doing homework.” Marvin wasn’t ashamed to admit this to Whizzer. 

“Same! Except guys, not girls. And I was still doing very well in classes.”

“So, just because you liked guys?”

“Something like that. Should have sent me to an all girls school.”

Marvin scoffed again. 

Whizzer grinned. “Where are you from?”

“Middle of nowhere. You?”

“Omaha, Nebraska.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s– far.”

“Mhm.”

“Weren’t there all boys schools there?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go to one of those?”

“Why don’t you have any more decorations?”

Another topic change. Maybe Whizzer didn’t like talking about his family. Marvin was curious, now, but he wouldn’t push it just yet. He didn’t want to be hated already, by the guy he’d be living with for the next year and a half.

“Didn’t want any,” Marvin responded. 

“Ugh. Boring. At least hang some pictures, or a poster or something. The wall is so _bare.”_

“Yeah. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Whizzer was about to say something, before his phone rang. Some happy, upbeat, obscure glam rock like music. He didn’t hesitate to pick up. “Hello? Yeah. I’m busy–.” Whizzer paused, then groaned. _“Muy ocupado.”_ Another pause. “Fine! Give me five minutes.” And then the phone was put down. 

Marvin raised a brow, watching as Whizzer slid out of his chair, putting his shoes back on. “Catch ya later, Marv.” He said, turning to wink at Marvin as he left the room and shut the door. 

This was going to be interesting.


	2. whizzer (part one)

Marvin was trying to organize his desk when Whizzer came back. The door barely got shut behind him, before he was immediately, silently, moving to his side of the room. With a lot of struggle, he slipped something that looked like a tank top out from under his shirt, and discarded it on the floor near his bed, then immediately dropped himself among his brightly colored pillows. Marvin watched quietly for a moment, before deciding to speak up. 

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Whizzer was suddenly sitting upright, clutching a pillow against his chest.

Marvin blinked. “Are you–”

Whizzer nodded, cutting him off. “Fine. I’m just exhausted. Out late, y’know.” He seemed kind of out of breath.

“It’s only eight.”

“Yeah.”

“Past your bedtime?”

Whizzer chuckled, to Marvin’s surprise. “No, not at all. I was just very busy.”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah, I get it. What time do you usually go to bed?”

“Midnight,” Whizzer said, flopping himself back against his bed. “Or later than that. But I’m quiet, so I won’t keep you up.”

“I don’t usually go to bed until after midnight, too,” Marvin responded.

Whizzer chuckled a bit, but that was the end of the conversation. After a minute or two of silence, Marvin turned back to his desk, trying to figure out _some_ kind of order. He was never good with organization, but he assumed that Whizzer would hound him if he just left his things scattered about. He sent a glance to Whizzer’s pristine desk and study area, all color coordinated and with everything in its place, then looked back at his own. All one bland color, black, and just kind of there. He sighed, resting his forehead against one of the few bits of empty space.

Marvin heard Whizzer’s phone go off again. The same, upbeat song that he remembered from earlier that night. Whizzer just let it continue, humming along to it after awhile.

“Are you not going to answer that?” Marvin questioned, glancing back at Whizzer.

“Nah. No need. If he _really_ needs to talk to me, he’ll stop by.” Whizzer said. He had moved to lay on his stomach, now, running his hands along the soft-looking material of one of his decorative pillows. 

“Oh.”

The music shut off after a little while, and they were engulfed into more silence. Marvin had given up on organizing his stuff and ended up pulling out his phone. He was texting Trina, mostly just because he promised that he would and he didn’t want her to be mad at him, because that was the last thing that he needed. 

“What’s your favorite color?” Whizzer questioned out of nowhere. Marvin was kind of startled by the sudden voice.

He glanced over. Whizzer wasn’t even in his bed anymore. When had he moved? He was at his own desk, writing in a notebook.

“Uh.. I don't know. Blue?”

“You sure it’s not black?” Whizzer asked, looking over at Marvin’s pile of stuff on his desk. Then, he turned in his chair to look at Marvin himself. “You have a lot of it. And you’re _wearing_ a lot of it.”

Marvin shrugged. “Maybe it is. I don’t know. What’s yours? I can’t really tell,” he mumbled, motioning to the array of colors on Whizzer’s side of the room.

Whizzer laughed. “Yeah. I like lots of colors. Pink, green, blue, and orange. Those are my favorites.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

Marvin stared at him. Whizzer was grinning. “What are you looking at?” Marvin questioned, defensively.

Whizzer swirled his chair back around to face his desk, picking up his glitter gel pen and writing again. Not even answering Marvin’s question. Marvin huffed, “What are you doing?”

“Writing,” Whizzer mumbled, absently. He finished whatever he was writing and put the pen down again, before closing the notebook and moving back to his bed. He picked up his tank top-like thing on the way and put it in a drawer beside the end table.

Then Whizzer was back in bed. “Who were you texting?” He questioned, curiously.

“You have a lot of questions,” Marvin pointed out, “but you sure don’t like to answer any of the ones I ask you.”

“I answer your questions.”

“Not all of them.”

“Fine.” And then Whizzer was sitting upright again. Did this guy ever hold still? “Ask me as many questions as you want. I’ll answer 99% of them.”

“99%?”

“Yeah. There are some things I won’t answer. Privacy, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Marvin nodded. Now he didn’t actually know what to say. There was quiet, Marvin trying to come up with a question, Whizzer picking at one of his pillows.

“Is Whizzer your _real_ name?” He finally came up with.

“Yes,” Whizzer answered. “Biological? No. But I got it legally changed.”

“Did you come up with it yourself?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Kind of.”

Marvin assumed that ‘kind of’ was all that he was going to get on the subject of that, so he dropped it. “Okay. What’s your dream job?”

“Photographer.” Whizzer shrugged. “I’m okay at it, it’s low maintenance, I could get a fairly good income. If it doesn’t work out and I don’t get a wealthy boyfriend, though, I’m just going to work in my friend’s currently non-existent bakery.”

“What are your friends like?”

“Real friends, or the guys that I call friends here?”

“Real friends, I guess.”

Whizzer got up, grabbing a picture from his cork board. He crossed the fairy light barrier into Marvin’s side of the room, handing the picture to him. And then he plopped himself in Marvin’s desk chair, after giving the mess on the desk itself a look of mild disgust. “That’s them. Charlotte and Cordelia.”

The picture was Whizzer and the two girls, one of them very tall and lanky, light skinned with light hair and eyes, and the other on the opposite side of the scale.They were both very pretty. The blonde one had a childlike energy about her that Marvin could practically feel through the picture, and the brunette had more of a mature aura. 

“Cordelia is the tall one,” Whizzer continued, watching Marvin look at the picture. “They’re a couple. Have been since, like, beginning of middle school. I grew up with Cordelia, and we met Charlotte in elementary school. We’ve been friends ever since! Cordelia is the one who wants to run a bakery. Charlotte wants to be a doctor.”

“Interesting.” Marvin stated, handing the photo back. “A baker, a doctor, and a photographer.”

Whizzer smiled. “What do you want to do?”

“I thought _I_ was asking _you_ questions.” 

“Right, right.” Whizzer waved his hand. “Sorry. Carry on.” 

Marvin did. “What was that _thing_ that you took off?” Whizzer gave him a confused stare, so Marvin elaborated. “That you put in the drawer.”

“Oh!” Whizzer nodded. “My binder.”

“Your what?”

Marvin watched Whizzer roll his eyes. The taller boy motioned to his flag. “Transgender. I’m not just an ally, Marvin.”

“Oh. I couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah. Testosterone shots do wonders, but not really much for the chest. In my case, at least,” Whizzer shrugged. 

“You’re really open about this stuff.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Marvin was getting uncomfortable, for some reason, so he changed the topic with another question. “What’s your family like?”

Whizzer waved that one off. “Next question.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about them.”

“Why?”

“Next question.”

Marvin sighed. “Actually, that’s all.”

“Alright,” Whizzer smiled. 

And then Whizzer returned to his own side of the room, disappearing underneath his pillows and blankets. Marvin didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. 

It was only 11:30.


End file.
